


Aluminum

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, M/M, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-01
Updated: 2019-11-01
Packaged: 2021-01-16 02:47:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 924
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21263819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: Bones has to eat somehow.





	Aluminum

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

It’s been three days in the cramped quarters of their shuttlecraft, waiting for the Enterprise to realize that something’s wrong and come back to get them. They will eventually, Leonard has every faith in that—Jim would never leave any of his crew to die, _especially_ Leonard and Spock. Sooner or later, that big, beautiful starship will breach the atmosphere, and a rescue team will come down to fix their engines. They’ll be brought safely back aboard, and Leonard will finally, _finally_ get to feed again.

He should’ve topped himself up before he left. That was foolish. He should’ve made sure the shuttlecraft had extra blood packets just in case, but vampirism is so rare amongst Federation species that they’re not part of standard med kits. It’s his own foolish oversights that will kill him, which is especially ironic, given that his condition’s supposed to make him immortal.

He’s slumped in the pilot’s seat of their docked ship, staring out the dust-covered windshield, when Spock ventures from the back, “You know, Doctor, I am perfectly willing to sustain you.”

Leonard snorts. He knows. Spock’s already volunteered twice, and Leonard rejected it both times, because it’s ridiculous. Leonard can eat the same standardized rations that Spock can, but they don’t hold any nutritional value for him, so he’s left Spock the full supply. Leonard’s sure the Enterprise will come before the situation gets _too_ dire and he _has_ to feed. It’s just incredibly uncomfortable in the meantime. He’s never been so _thirsty_ before. In some ways, Spock’s appetizing: in the privacy of his own mind, Leonard can admit that Spock’s an objectively handsome man. More than that. He’s irritatingly attractive. Maybe charming in some ways. Still a pain in others. But the thought of drinking _green_ blood just makes Leonard squirm, and not in a good way. He knows it should, theoretically, still be enough to keep him alive, but Leonard can’t get past his own prejudice. He’s had premium red, juicy, _human_ blood. He doesn’t want green Vulcan swill.

But he’s also _starving_, and Spock’s right there. Leonard begrudgingly peers over his shoulder. Spock’s seated on the floor in a sea of dismantled equipment—he’s been alternatively trying to boost the range of their communicators and repair their navigational array. He looks back at Leonard with a completely deadpanned expression that should be another turn off, but somehow isn’t. Leonard’s stomach twists. In the right lighting and situation, Spock’s skin has a faint green tint to it, blue in other places, but his long neck is still relatively _human_. The flawless skin there calls out to Leonard’s base desires. He’s a doctor that vowed to do no harm, but his hunger rages in his chest. Spock lowers the tricorder in his hands and reaches to roll down the black collar around his throat. 

Leonard mutters, “Damn it,” and breaks. He gets out of his chair and stalks over, dropping down to his knees, and then he’s leaning in before he can change his mind. His mouth opens, fangs tingling and stretching out to their full glory—then he’s breaching the skin and clamping down. Spock has a sharp hitch of breath and nothing more. He doesn’t cry out like most would, but that’s the only reason Leonard’s willing to do this—Spock has the Vulcan strength and mental discipline to take it.

Leonard bites down and _sucks_. Warm blood rushes up to meet him, bubbling into his mouth and running down his throat. It’s slick, rich, and wildly delectable. For a moment, it takes Leonard by surprise—he actually goes dizzy with the first load that he swallows. Vulcan blood is _delicious_.

And he has a healthy adult male full of it, just sitting there, offering it up to him. He can’t believe his luck. He takes another shuddering gulp and sucks up more. Spock’s hand reaches out to brace against his knee. Leonard can feel the tremor in it. He hopes Spock will push him away if he takes too much, because after so long without, it’s difficult to keep himself in check. He just wants to lay Spock out across the floor and suck at him for _hours_.

That would be incredibly unprofessional. Spock lightly squeezes his knee, and Leonard takes the hint. He pulls away, ripping out but quickly lapping over the wound—his saliva stitches the skin right back together. There’s no need to fetch a dermal regenerator. He can still hear the thrum of Spock’s pulse racing. He can still taste Spock’s bitter copper aftertaste inside his mouth. He adores it. He hates that he loves it. He licks Spock’s throat until the wound’s completely gone and the flesh is a healthy yellow.

He sits back, reeling from the pleasure of it. Spock swallows and thickly asks, “Are you satisfied, Doctor?” It comes out admirably stoic. Spock acts like nothing’s changed, but Leonard can see the subtle flush to his cheeks and the dilation of his pupils—he’s definitely affected.

Leonard wants _more_. He wants so, so much more. And more than just blood. Knowing how good Spock tastes opens up the floodgates, recalling dozens of skewed fantasies that Leonard always pushed down, because Spock’s an annoying green-blooded hobgoblin and they would never work. 

They still would never work. As the heady wave dissipates, Spock’s blood settling inside his stomach, Leonard regains his pride. He answers, “Yes,” and turns away before it’s too late to turn back.

The Enterprise calls them seven minutes later, but Leonard has no regrets.


End file.
